


kiss me (i'm addicted to the wine on your lips)

by postfixrevolution



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Humor, M/M, Mindless Fluff, alcohol mention, drunk makeouts, how do you come up with good titles, published pre-game release so sorry if OOC, tbh i don't have much to say other than this is rEALLY GROSSLY FLUFFY
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 10:12:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5581759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/postfixrevolution/pseuds/postfixrevolution
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re drunk,” he tells the boy curtly. “Astoundingly so, if I may say.” </p><p>Silas beams. “I <i>know</i>, right?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	kiss me (i'm addicted to the wine on your lips)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fledermauss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fledermauss/gifts).



> This started out as me being like: Man, I really like Kamui with Leo, Takumi, and Silas. Then I wrote those straight ships. Then I wrote Leo Takumi. Then Silas Takumi happened (it's not published, sorry). And now we've come full circle. 
> 
> And, to Hannah: Sorry everything I gift you is always really -20% hetero; I swear I didn't plan it this way??
> 
> Anyway! Unbeta-ed, so forgive any mistakes that lurk and enjoy!

A sudden knock against his wooden door, and Leo looks up from his book apprehensively, wondering just who it is that could be interrupting him at such a time. As it should be, all the castle’s occupants should be crowding in the main hall, celebrating another well-deserved, if not rambunctious ode to the day’s victories. The Nohrian prince, appreciative as he is of their hard-won conquests, would take a quiet night of solitude over a cacophonous celebration any day. There is enough harsh noise on the battlefield; grandiose retellings of a bloody day’s battles are no better than scarlet-stained memories of his own, replaying over and over in his mind’s eye, and Leo slips out of such parties skillfully and silently, a polite smile and a vague excuse on his lips to ward off any curious enough to follow. 

The knocking sounds again, a harsh thudding of knuckles against oak, and with a sigh, Leo swings his legs off the bed, careful to leave his book open to the proper page. When he reaches the door, wraps slender fingers around the cool metal of the handle, the surface suddenly swings open, catching him directly in his face. Leo stumbles backwards on two left feet, head spinning and nose throbbing, fully prepared to crash to the floor before a pair of hands stop him, startlingly hot against his wrists. He’s pulled back to his feet with a sharp tug, and when his eyes fall back into focus, they are met with brilliant verdant and an even brighter grin. 

“That was smooth,” Silas snickers, and the laughter is low in his throat, humming through the air with a distinct rumble. The distance between them is not enough, especially when Leo can feel the heat of the other boy’s exhalations against his cheeks, taste the alcohol that floats heavily in his breath. Silas is undeniably drunk - it’s in the ease of his closeness, the looseness of his smile and the dark roseate flush of his porcelain cheeks. Leo shakes away the verdant-stained haze over his mind and blinks harshly, pulls his hands out of Silas’s and steps back. It’s easier to keep track of his thoughts there, where there are more than just bright eyes and brighter smiles across the field of his vision, blurring his mind as well as everything else. There is a strange magnetism in the him that Leo can’t explain past the way that his amethyst eyes are drawn to the older boy almost automatically, how, when they walk, it’s only the sound of one set of footsteps because Leo’s align with Silas’s without so much as a second thought. A strange magnetism, yet undeniable, immutable, and terrifying. Verdant eyes could lock onto his, and part of him knows he wouldn’t be able to look away. Leo takes another subtle step back. 

“You’re drunk,” he tells the boy curtly. “Astoundingly so, if I may say.” Silas, to his credit, continues smiling, only swaying so noticeably on his feet as he does so. Leo watches the movement with narrowed eyes, pondering what he might do if the knight truly were to topple over. Catch him, maybe, but the taller boy is undoubtedly heavier, and getting crushed under anyone, specifically Silas, is not something high up on the blond’s list of priorities. “I’m amazed you can still walk,” Leo adds, arching a thin eyebrow at the boy. 

Silas beams. “I _know_ , right?” he chimes, laughing cheerily. “It took me, uh... four- no, five! Five tries to get up the stairs here, haha.” He continues smiling, obviously proud of the amount of adroit attempts it took for him to make the trek up here, and Leo resists the near overwhelmingly strong urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. He can’t tell if it’s a migraine brewing behind his brow, or if it’s just a roiling sense of pained disappointment, but he allows himself a small groan. 

“Five attempts that you certainly could have spared yourself by not dragging yourself up here,” Leo notes. “Was there a reason you put yourself through such ardor, or did you just want to bother me?” 

Verdant eyes stare blankly for a moment, and Leo gives in to the temptation to pinch the bridge of his nose; he sighs deeply, not sure what gods he is cursing, but cursing them nonetheless. Then, inhaling deeply, he turns amethyst eyes back to the older boy. 

“Look, I’ll escort you back to the party,” he offers in exasperation. “Or to your quarters. It’s your choice, but I have a feeling that you’ll need more help making it down the stairs than up.” Leo is halfway to the door when Silas gasps, and, with no small amount of growing annoyance, the blond turns back to him, eyes him expectantly. 

“No no, I remember why I came up here now!” he insists, nodding earnestly. Leo arches a thin eyebrow at him, crossing his arms and leaning lazily against the oaken door. 

“Oh?” he drawls. “Do enlighten me, Silas.” 

With an infallible smile across his face, the knight takes one large step forward, grabbing unsteadily onto Leo’s shoulders with either hand. Amethyst eyes have only the time to regard the boy confusedly before Silas clumsily wrenches him forward, kissing him straight on the lips. Leo’s eyes widen at that, his pulse skyrocketing somewhere past his throat, and he registers things in fragmented bits and pieces - sweet wine on his lips, firm hands on his shoulders, deft fingers barely brushing the skin of his neck. Past the smell of alcohol that clings to him, there is the scent of riverbanks and the apples he sneaks to both their horses when he thinks the blond isn’t looking. It’s nothing intrinsically unique, but it is incongruous to Silas, synonymous to the boy and reminding Leo of him even when he’s nowhere near. He almost lets his eyes flutter shut, so lulled by the overwhelming scent of Silas that fills the forefront of his mind, but the other boy pulls away, ending the kiss almost as soon as it began. Half-lidded and dizzy, Leo follows him for a brief moment before he can blink the haze away, snapping back to his senses with a gasp. One hand flies up to cover his mouth, to hide the shockingly scarlet flush of his cheeks, but verdant eyes don’t catch it anyway. 

Silas is doubled over on himself giggling hysterically, and when he finally regains himself, there is still light laughter tumbling from his lips, painting the timbre of his voice with a lilting buoyancy. Leo eyes him cautiously, slowly lowering his hand, but the boy just smiles brightly at him, blissfully unaffected. 

“I kissed a _prince_ ,” he titters cheerfully. “Does this make me royalty now?” 

Leo gapes at him. “Y-you’re kidding,” he deadpans. 

“Aww, so it doesn’t?” the boy moans, pouting petulantly. “Guess kissing you doesn’t change you from a mean, grumpy frog into a _nice_ prince,” he grumbles, crossing his arms pointedly. There’s a followed attempt to stamp his foot huffily, but Silas still sways precariously as he does so, and the attempt is rendered null as he tilts backwards, landing gracefully on his back with a dull thud. Leo can’t help a small wince at the painful sight, but his pity immediately evaporates as Silas breaks into uncontrollable cackles, rolling over himself with laughter. The prince mentally groans; he ought to get paid for this babysitting, seeing as it’s undoubtedly taking years from his life at this rate. 

“Get up,” Leo snaps, whinier than he would have liked. Silas doesn’t do exactly as told, but as his giggles subside, he sits up, blinking up at the other boy owlishly. With an annoyed cluck of his tongue, Leo offers a hand to him. 

“Don’t wanna,” Silas eventually says. It’s neither argumentative nor petulant; the knight states it with amazing neutrality, and Leo feels his eye twitch. 

“Silas, we’re going. Get up.” 

“Nuh uh!” he bemoans, shaking his head childishly. “Why don’t _you_ get _down_!” he pouts, and grabs Leo’s proffered hand, yanking him down to the floor. A painful sense of vertigo grabs him by the head and spins him, and when his mind stops swirling, they’re face to face again, Silas’s eyes wide, as if he legitimately hadn’t expected Leo to land directly in his lap. The blond feels his blush return full force and swallows the rabbit like pulse in his throat. Silas must have somehow found this amusing, because a soft snicker bubbles from his mouth, painting a smile across his face and warmth in his eyes. 

“Wow, you’re adorable when you blush,” Silas notes smilingly, snaking his arms over Leo’s shoulders. “Almost wanna kiss you again,” he adds, with that same unfaltering smile, and it’s unfair: the unaffectedness of his expression when Leo feels his stomach twist and his breath catch, electricity jolting up his spine and leaving it ramrod stiff on its way to his cheeks, where it stains them a brilliant sunburn red. The pounding in his chest matches the one in his ears, he's never felt as excited, scared, _anxious_ as he does now. Leo swallows thickly. 

“Not- not fair,” he grounds out, and before Silas has the chance to do any more than blink confusedly at the prince, Leo grimaces, decides he hates himself, and screws his eyes shut, yanking Silas forward by the collar. The kiss is terrible in the sense that it’s amazing, and Leo hates himself for admitting to it, for tilting his face closer and sighing into Silas's mouth when the boy grins against his lips, returns the kiss with equal fervor. He's an unreasonably good kisser, despite being drunk, and the wine on his lips — _on his tongue_ — is one of the only things Leo registers, clouding his mind and making him feel drunk, too. When Silas runs his tongue across the seam of his mouth, pries his lips open with a hot breath and the lingering taste of wine, he can't help but gasp. The grey haired boy snorts softly at the sound, tries to keep their lips together, but the quiet laugh quickly devolves into raucous giggles and the knight has pull away, leaning his forehead against Leo's as he laughs uncontrollably. The blond stares at him incredulously, failing to bite back his painfully red blush. 

"Sh-shut up!" he exclaims, squirming petulantly in the other boy's hold. "It's not a laughing matter!" 

Silas only grins at him, pulling their faces closer. Their noses brush and he exhales a gentle laugh, hot against Leo's already warm cheeks. 

"Alright, if you say so, Prince Leo," he singsongs, playing absently with the hair at the nape of his neck. "Besides, why laugh when we can kiss again?" he adds slyly, and Leo curses the way this boy makes his head spin, his heart stutter. "I'm going to kiss my way into royalty; just watch me." 

"I'm scared to say I believe you," Leo mutters, but when Silas kisses him again, he doesn't complain, just presses himself closer and licks the smile and the taste of wine off his lips. 

**Author's Note:**

> how do you endings ._.


End file.
